


In Her Quarters

by edibleflowers



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen Rutherford and Staya Levallan have a quiet night at Skyhold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Her Quarters

**Author's Note:**

> So I fell down the rabbit hole of Dragon Age: Inquisition and now I'm writing fanfic about my characters and their love interests. Pity me. This takes place after the end of the game, but there's no real context beyond that. It's a PWP, come on. Staya Lavellan, dual-wielding elf rogue, is from my first playthrough.

"Cullen?" Staya said. 

Cullen Rutherford looked up from the desk where he sat, several reports spread out before him. The tower room's doors were shut tight against cold mountain air so that Staya Levallan (Dalish elf, rogue, Inquisitor, and -- not incidentally -- his love) could enjoy a hot bath without fear of the heat being sucked out at once. Not wanting to disturb her, Cullen had brought paperwork with him to focus on while she bathed.

Now, though the foam of the water in the deep copper tub covered her completely, he still found himself blushing a little as he pulled his gaze back to his reports. He'd put off his cloak and heavy armor, since the room was well-heated between the fire built up high and the full tub of hot water before it; even so, he felt as flushed as if he were heaped with furs.

After a moment, he realized she'd been asking him something and looked over at her again. The elf sat demurely in the tub, a rolled towel at her nape to prop her head up against the curled metal lip. Her pale hair fell in limp wisps about her face, showing the graceful curve of her ears more prominently than usual; her bright green eyes danced above the warm flush of her cheeks. Once again, Cullen felt that wash of surprised, flustered incredulity roll over him. That this amazing woman wanted _him_ , out of any man in the world--

"Come dry me off?" she asked. Though her voice was innocent, he could hear that hint of teasing in it that made his blood suddenly run hot. With no further thought to his paperwork, he stood, pushing the chair back, and came around the desk to take a thick towel from the table that had been set nearby. As he began to unfold it, she stepped from the tub, lithe, glistening, her skin gold and rose in the firelight, an utter lack of self-consciousness lending grace to every movement.

The towel slipped from his hands without his notice or care. Swallowing hard, he took the last couple of steps to the tub in an instant. He hooked his arms around Staya, drawing her against him, heedless of the way her still-wet skin dampened his clothes. Her mouth met his, the sweetness of her lips evoking a moan from him, and he hitched her up into his arms to carry her as far as the bed.

"I'm not dry!" she protested, laughing, as he swept the covers back and dropped her to the mattress.

"I should certainly hope not," Cullen grinned, unlacing his shirt as she scooted back up on the bed a little. Her smile was infectious; all his uncertainty disappeared in an instant. Here, as on the battlefield, he knew himself as he rarely did elsewhere. Staya drew her arms up over her head, arched her back just enough to show off her breasts: small but firm, dark nipples already stiff from the cooler air (and, he flattered himself, from her desire for him). His fingers fumbled and he gave up on the shirt, yanking it over his head instead. The trousers were the work of another moment, and then he was pulling stockings down and off, shoving smallclothes to his ankles and stepping out of them to kneel on the bed over her.

Sinking down to her, he had to pause a moment simply to savor the warmth of her body, long and lean against his; he stroked her side, her hip and thigh, with one big hand, his mouth finding hers again and again. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, his voice already raw with need.

"Mmm, I was about to say the same thing." She tilted her head up to meet his kiss, her still-damp hair spread in tendrils over the pillow.

"Stop," he laughed into her mouth.

"But it's true!" Pulling back, she gave him the most wide-eyed look of innocence he'd ever seen on her face. It gave way after a moment to a giggle, which only made him want to kiss her more.

"Liar," he murmured, but he was chuckling too as he teased his tongue against hers, fondness and need surging through him together.

When he could stand simply kissing her no longer, he pushed himself down a little to mouth at one of her breasts, lipping at the stiff nipple and then sucking it between his teeth. Her hands sought purchase in his hair; the gasp she made, low and throaty, enflamed him all over again.

"You are, oh--" Her breath caught as he suckled hard at her, a stutter that sent fire through him. "S-so beautiful..."

"Clearly I'm not working hard enough to keep you distracted," he muttered, mouthing his way down her belly. Pale skin fluttered under his mouth, his fingers exploring her all anew, as if he didn't know every inch of her by now; he never tired of re-learning her, re-cataloguing her every freckle and scar. When he felt the thatched nest of her pubic hair tickle his chin, he looked up at her, the smile on his face nothing short of wicked as he took in her expression. Staya had never been given this particular pleasure before he'd met her, and he delighted in driving her mad with it as often as possible.

"Cullen," she gasped, her cheeks high with color.

"Yes, love?" Now he was trying for innocence, though the hoarse rasp of his voice gave the lie to his attempt. He rested his hands on her lower belly, set his chin on them, eyes sparkling. "I'm at your command."

"P-please." Staya's lower lip caught between her teeth, the edge of it white where she bit at her skin. "Please--"

"Say it," he said, lower now, hearing the burn in his own voice. "Tell me what you want."

"Cullen." A harsh gasp, then a swallow, her head tilting back to the pillow. He could feel her pulse under his palms, her heartbeat fast and needy; more, he could feel her heat, even the scent of her a living thing that called to him. How had he lived before he'd known this sweetness? "Cullen," she said again, and finally, with her eyes closed, "Your mouth. On me. I want it so much--"

It was all he needed. Taking an instant to gather her thighs up over his shoulders, he dove into her, inhaling the rich scent of her wet arousal, his tongue seeking eagerly into her as deep as he could press it. Staya's helpless moan wracked him with new fire and he moved up to find her clitoris, licking over it with the flat of his tongue, his fingers seeking where his tongue had been exploring moments before. He could almost feel her arousal deepening; he could certainly taste it, and her thready cries only fueled his need to bring her to that ultimate pleasure.

Nothing said he couldn't take his time about it, though. He knew she liked it even more when he drew it out, made it last, and so he slowed again, one finger and then another sliding gentle in her, his tongue licking, teasing, slicking over her folds and alongside his fingers until he felt her thighs shuddering and her hips straining and pushing up against his face. Then he gave in to eagerness once more, working his tongue hard on her and rocking his fingers deep until her hips bucked and she gave out a sharp breathy cry that melted away into harsh breaths.

Wiping at his mouth, Cullen pushed up again and settled on his side next to Staya, who, still panting breathlessly, turned to curl herself against him. She felt small, fragile like this, and he gathered her to him with a languid smile, pressing kisses into her soft hair.

"Creators, Cullen," she said at last, and tipped her head up so that she could kiss him. He hadn't managed to clean his lips completely, but she didn't seem to mind -- another flare of heat went through him at that, and his cock reminded him of just how hard he was, how much he wanted her; he'd managed to suppress it while he'd loved her with his mouth and fingers, but now-- Her slim hand slipped between them, skimmed down his stomach and curled promisingly around him, making him gasp.

"I'm-- no, I'm good--" he tried to protest.

"Oh, I know you are." With a wicked grin, Staya nudged him to his back with her free hand. Helplessly he fell, utterly lost in her power, shivering in her grasp. All he could do now was watch her with greedy, desperate eyes as she swung herself up and over him, her lithe thighs straddling his, her hand now guiding him between her legs and into her, into the dark velvet heat of her--

Cullen gave a shout as she sank down on him in one sleek, slick move. The sound echoed in the chamber, joined by her low moan of aching pleasure as she took him in deep, so deep, buried him in her body in a joining so sweet there were no words for it. For a moment all he saw was her face, the unutterable pleasure writ in her eyes and her open mouth; then she lifted up just enough to slide down on him again, and he found himself pushing his hips up to meet her, his thighs tensing, his hands finding her hips, her bottom, stroking up her back and urging her down to him as she moved, writhed, slid and ground herself to take him in again.

She leaned forward for a rough kiss, urgent, but then pushed back upright-- "Can't, I can't," she panted, and he thought he understood. One of her hands found a breast, her finger and thumb circling her nipple: the same one he'd bitten and licked, and when she sucked in her breath he knew she was remembering that too. In response, he slid his thumb between her legs to unerringly press and tease at her clitoris, the hard nub of flesh slick in her folds, and Staya gave a gratifyingly rough gasp and threw her head back. 

"Come," he rasped, fucking up into her harder now, as hard as he could with what leverage he could manage. "Let me feel it, Staya, love, let me feel you, come for me--"

This time her orgasm was sharp and unexpected, and a quiver ran all through her and into him everywhere they touched: hips, thighs, hands, but most especially where his cock was buried in her. Her body squeezed him tight as a fist, and Cullen cried out and let go, too, breathless, head rocking back hard into the pillow.

He had just enough energy to gather Staya to him afterward, folding her limp body to him and circling her with his arms. He was still buried in her, and until it was too much sensation for her, he would stay that way; he could never get enough of her, not even after the intensity of their lovemaking.

"Shh," he breathed, smoothing down her ruffled hair, which had dried in uneven twists. 

"Creators," she murmured against his collarbone. "Every time."

"I know." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then, when she lifted her face to his, to her lips. Her eyes were wide and dazed, dark green in the candlelight. "Maker's breath, I'll never stop being amazed at how good it is with you."

"Nor will I." Smiling, she pillowed her cheek on his shoulder again. As her breathing steadied, he could feel the room beginning to cool; with a smile of his own, Cullen reached for the counterpane to cover them up.


End file.
